Page 57 of Landlord Wars
My eyes narrowed because I’d just thought of something when he mentioned coming to find me. He said he’d ordered the chocolate weeks ago. Which meant the dinner date tonight had been pre-planned. “Were you really looking for Jack?”
“No, I came to ask you out. But why were you jumpy?”
Butterflies erupted in my belly. A girl could get used to this kind of attention.
Had I been jumpy earlier? I’d just gotten off work, and yeah, a lot had gone on today. “Well, first, because you showed up unannounced, and your presence has that effect on me. Second, because I have a big decision to make with work, and I was stressing about it.”
Max knew about my mom’s place, but no way would I admit how bad it was below the surface with a rodent infestation. I skipped to the other major distraction of Victor’s offer.
“My boss offered to sell me his business.” I glanced up nervously, hands clenched together. “I don’t know that I can afford it, but I’m considering it anyway because I’ve always wanted to run my own shop.” Max knew I came from humble beginnings—no point in sugarcoating it.
He topped off my wine, and I didn’t fight it. Not like I had to drive home. “What are the conditions of the contract?”
Max was a businessman. He’d be the first to look for strings attached.
“Considering what I’d be gaining,” I said, “there don’t seem to be many. Victor, my boss, has asked for a small percentage of the profit each year, and he’ll stick around until I’m up and running on my own. I’ve skimmed the proposal, but there’s a lot of legalese, and I’m not a lawyer. Victor isn’t the type of person to screw me over, but I need to know what I’m agreeing to. I guess when you showed up this afternoon, I was thinking about where to go for a second opinion.”
He corked the wine and lifted his glass, clinking it against my own. “Congratulations on the offer. Though I’d be leery of a contract stipulating a portion of the profits in perpetuity. You might be better off settling on a price and paying him off with interest over time.”
“From what he said and what I saw in the contract, that’s the idea. Though I need to look more closely.”
“I can look it over, if you like,” he offered. “Jack would be a good person to review it as well. He has a law degree and might catch a few things I don’t.”
I set my glass down abruptly. “Jack has alawdegree? He builds video games.”
“I’m assuming you know that Jack beat out hundreds of smart kids in San Francisco to attend a prestigious middle school on scholarship, yes?”
Jack had mentioned that. “But he’s so laid-back. He doesn’t look like a lawyer.”
Max laughed. “What does a lawyer look like?”
I smiled and shook my head. “I guess saying someone in a power suit is cliché. Still, Jack doesn’t give off the lawyer vibe.”
“He doesn’t, which is part of his charm. Aside from designing video games, he’s passed the bar and is a savvy businessman.”
I shook my head, mind blown. “I’m impressed, and yes, absolutely. I’d love for both of you to look at the contract. Like I said, I’m not sure I’m the best person for the job this early in my career. I have a lot of family financial obligations. But if it worked out, it would be incredible.”
He nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “If the business is profitable and has been for some time, you might not need much saved.” He hesitated a moment as though just realizing something. “Sophia, you never mention your father. Is he still around?”
This was the question that, no matter how kindly asked, always made me sad. I’d probably miss my dad forever. “No, my father died a while ago.”
He sighed and glanced down before looking back up. “I’m sorry.”
The apology was sincere, unlike the automatic responses I received from most people, and it comforted me. “It happened when I was a teenager.”
He studied my face. “That had to have been hard.”
“It was,” I said, thinking back. “It was brutal for me and Elise, but it mentally changed my mom. She never got over my dad. Honestly, neither have Elise and I, but my mom has been the most altered. You’ve seen our family home. You have some sense of what’s going on there.”
“The hoarding,” he said, and my back stiffened.
Max spoke of hoarding as though it were no big deal and offered every sign of wanting to still date me, knowing how bad things were.
“Is it too sensitive a subject to ask how he passed?” Max said.
“It’s not too sensitive, it’s just kind of tragic. My mom had been asking my dad for years to paint the house. He’d just finished getting it done in her favorite color, and the workers left behind some paint cans. My dad loved our neighborhood because it was an easy walk to the restaurants and shops. He’d been on his way to the hardware store down the street to recycle the cans and was hit by a drunk driver in the middle of the day.”
The same shaky feeling overcame me every time I told the story. I’d never get over how my dad was there one day and the next day gone.
